Hence he did not go far, ere he aroused the persons he desired so much to surprise, and whose practised ear, constantly on the watch, had at once noticed the unusual sound which he had himself not noticed. Fray Antonio, extremely satisfied with his manner of progression, and congratulating himself in his heart at having succeeded so well in concealing himself, grew bolder and bolder, and began to feel almost entirely reassured, when suddenly he uttered a slight cry of terror, and stopped as if his feet had been rooted in the ground. He had felt a heavy hand laid on his shoulder. The monk began trembling all over, though not daring to turn his head to the right or left, for he was persuaded in his heart that his last hour had arrived. "Hilloh, Señor Padre, what are you doing in the forest at such an hour?" a hoarse voice then said to him. But Fray Antonio was unable to answer; terror had rendered him deaf and blind. "Are you dumb?" the voice went on a minute after in a friendly voice. "Come, come, it is not wise to traverse the desert at so late an hour." The monk did not reply. "Deuce take me," the other exclaimed, "if terror has not rendered him idiotic. Come, bestir yourself, canarios." And he began shaking him vigorously. "Eh, what?" the monk said, in whom a species of reaction was beginning to take place. "Come, there is some progress, you speak, hence you are not dead," Tranquil went on joyously, for it was he who had so cruelly frightened the monk; "follow me, you must be frozen, don't let us remain here." And passing his arm through the monk's, he led him away; the latter followed him passively and mechanically, not able yet to understand what was happening to him, but still beginning to regain a small amount of courage. In a few minutes, they reached the clearing. "Ah!" Carmela exclaimed in surprise; "Fray Antonio! By what accident is he here, when he started with the conducta de plata?" This remark made the hunter prick his ears; he examined the monk attentively, and then compelled him to sit down by the fire. "I trust that the good father will explain to us what has happened to him," he muttered. Everything, however, has an end in this world; and the monk for some time past had seemed destined to pass, with the greatest rapidity and almost without transition, from the extremest terror to the most complete security. When he was a little warmed, the confusion produced in his ideas by the sudden meeting with the hunter gradually yielded to the cordial reception given him; and Carmela's gentle voice breaking pleasantly on his ear, completely re-established the balance of his mind, and dismissed the mournful apprehensions that tormented him. "Do you feel better, holy Father?" Carmela asked him, with much sympathy. "Yes," he said, "I thank you, I am now quite comfortable." "All the better. Will you eat? Would you like to take any refreshment?" "Nothing at all, I thank you, for I have not the least appetite."